He called himself excalibur. Thats all I remember.
He sent me a picture of him bent over showing his asshole with the caption "vwahla".... No more tequila for either of you
I petted my head, told my hair it felt beautiful and needed to be let free. Then pulled out my pony tail. Cheers to weed. I lose.
Hey, it's Thrasher! From the hospital!
I'm in Starbucks carrying the boxes wine and the hubcap. So many judging looks.
I found my hair extensions. They were in my hamper.
the mexican frat downstairs started singing this mariachi song, then out of nowhere some dude busts out a trumpet and plays along. is this even real?
I'm looking at some sugar baby profiles to get some insight on what we're up against.
I cannot describe the pre-ejaculative horrors thru the medium of text messaging
Yup, found the vomit in the side compartment. My bad.
The only person who DOESN'T think it's a horrible idea to sleep with my ex is my therapist. Obviously I trust her judgement above all others.
Well start with a list of things you don't want to do... Like maybe 1) I don't want join Isis. That's a good start.
Was I drunk or did Alex not show up with 100 rainbow Jell-O shots?
One lone grasshopper in the whataburger bathroom. Don't know how it got there. Scared the fuck out of me. Also puked over the side of the silverado fence. The horses looked disappointed. Animal magnetism is beautiful. You taught me well. I love you.
Drunk me made cabbage burritos at 1am after going to hustler hollywood.\nI bought socks. Lol
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